


Teach a Heathen How To Pray

by justyoumeandthestars



Series: When The Ship Goes Down [2]
Category: The Amazing Spider-Man (2012), The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Grocery Store, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Kid Fic, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-03
Updated: 2013-06-03
Packaged: 2017-12-13 21:21:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,173
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/829015
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justyoumeandthestars/pseuds/justyoumeandthestars
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I'm dedicating this to my dear Alexandra who predicted me writing this and is going through a lot of school work and whatnots and xoxoxoxo</p></blockquote>





	Teach a Heathen How To Pray

They sleep together close to two weeks after the grocery store run in. Peter'd argued with his dads earlier in the day about his reluctance to date. And while Peter knows deep down that he's not dating because he's afraid of getting hurt – or that is, of Harlen getting hurt – he'd prefer if Tony and Steve stayed out of it. 

“It's not as if you're going to bring home some girl who'll kidnap her, Pete. What's the big deal?” Steve asks.

“That's not the fucking point. The point is is that this isn't about me. Nothing I do anymore is about me. It's about Harlen, everything I do and live for is for her. And I'm not going to just abandon her with a babysitter while I date someone who'll leave once they find out about her. Contrary to what you two believe, people don't find twenty-four year olds with dead-end jobs and a two year old to be the pick of the litter.” Peter's face feels hot and it feels like someone's sitting on his chest. He can't breathe, can hardly see around the haze of red lining his vision. 

“We didn't raise you to think so lowly of yourself,” Tony mumbles.

“It's not about me!”

“Peter,” Steve's commanding voice rings, “what it sounds like to me, is that you're blaming Harlen.” 

“I'm not blaming my daughter, Pops. I'm blaming the people who have left or will leave. I don't want her to get attached to someone who doesn't give a shit about her.”

“You realize she's going to wake up one day and realize that her dad has nobody and it's because of her, right? You don't think that'll give her somewhat of a complex?”

Peter's too pissed off to listen, “I'd actually really appreciate it if you didn't tell me what to do or how to raise my daughter.” Harlen, who's been sleeping on the couch in the living room is collected by Peter and her bag is grabbed. He leaves Stark Tower without saying anything. 

He mopes on the couch with silent, angry tears slipping down his face while Harlen stares enamored at the television while sitting next to him on the couch. When a commercial pops up on the screen, he asks, “Wanna go visit Auntie Darcy?” He laughs when her face lights up and she nods, blonde curls bobbing on her head. “Give me a bit, then we can go, okay?” 

He dresses in skin-tight black jeans from the deep-roots of his closet and white t-shirt covered by a soft, brown leather jacket. He then packs a bag for Harlen, with a pair of pajamas, socks, and a dress. He includes a diaper, her cereal, and snacks in the front pocket. She's still staring at the TV when he returns to her a half hour later. “You ready?” She nods, not looking away. He begins tickling her and she screams and giggles before carrying her over his head and making airplane noises. 

When Darcy opens her door, she's handed a two year old who grabs her hair and tugs and a stuffed diaper bag. “Yes, hello, Peter, why don't you come in?” 

He shrugs, “Can't, gotta go get while the getting's good, Darc.” She glares and he smiles before kissing her forehead. “You're a lifesaver, I owe you so big.” 

“You're damn right, you jackass.” He laughs and walks down the path while waving at Harlen, who seems to be only just realizing that her dad isn't staying with her. She begins frantically waving back and frowning before Darcy says, “Want ice cream?” and distracts her.

–

He's halfway to hammered at some chintzy gay bar with lights too bright and music too loud. He's in the middle of a body-builder in a cut-off shirt chatting him up when there's a “Hey, Peter,” spoken into his ear. He turns to see Bruce, the grocery store guy, with a big grin on his face and something clear in his hand. “Fancy seeing you here.” 

Peter snorts and nods, “Guess having a kid pegs me as the straight type, eh?” And if he slurs too much, the music is loud enough to cover it. 

“I know your father, not much can surprise me with you.” And Peter shifts uncomfortably.

“You slept with my dad?”

Bruce looks deeply, solidly confused before laughing, “What? No. No, we studied together in college.” 

“You manage a grocery store, you went to MIT, and you studied science with my father? I may be drunk, but it sure seems one of these things is not like the others.” Bruce laughs and shakes his head. “So, you must be like, really old then.”

“Why, Mr. Parker, isn't that a bit assuming of you?” Peter rolls his eyes. “I'm forty-two. Not quite the dinosaur ages. Older than you by a long shot, though.”

“Just means more experienced, right?” He gives a wink and Bruce laughs. He slams back the rest of his gin and tonic, grimaces at the burn. “You wanna fuck?” He asks, because after all, he is Tony Stark's kid and being subtle isn't really his style. Bruce slowly nods, and a grin creeps onto Peter's face and he reaches up and yanks on Bruce's neck, dragging his face to meet his own. They kiss softly and Bruce tastes like sugar and smoke and his stubble rubs at Peter's chin. The older man gently pulls him from his chair and throws forty bucks down on the bar, breaking the kiss. He leads Peter out to a taxi and gives the driver an address. 

Peter's pretty far gone by the time they arrive at Bruce's house. He couldn't tell you what color the bedsheets are or how the pillow felt beneath his head. But he's got Bruce's tongue in his mouth and a hand in his too-tight jeans, so he really can't complain. He's rolled onto his front and he giggles a little – and then continues to giggle because, wow, he's really fucking smashed. The older man bites his ear gently and the laughter stops and his jeans are gone and this back is pressed against Bruce's front. There's a finger or three in his ass and, yeah, he wants this. 

“Are you ready?” Bruce asks lightly. Peter nods and he says, “Okay.” The fingers are gone and there's some fumbling above his back before there's something pressing against his hole. “Take a deep breath. Relax.” Peter isn't quite sure how much more he's supposed to relax, but then Bruce is in him. He's full and big and the younger man lets out small whimpers. Bruce sets a leisurely pattern and kisses Peter's shoulder repeatedly before beginning to suck a small bruise onto the man's neck. “You feel so good, fuck.”

Peter's response is another quiet, high pitched moan and he squeezes the bedspread between his fingers. He falls asleep after a successful orgasm is driven out of both of them. He's the small spoon and he feels warm and comforted and his head is swimming drunkenly.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm dedicating this to my dear Alexandra who predicted me writing this and is going through a lot of school work and whatnots and xoxoxoxo


End file.
